


Mass Effect: A Lost Dawn

by Ahzek



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action, Adventure, Drama, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahzek/pseuds/Ahzek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Reapers are defeated. In the wake of the war the surviving races have yet to find their footing in an uprooted galaxy. While the most important players remain concealed at first, Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy are swept up in the events they have set in motion.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shepard Lives

**Author's Note:**

> This story directly follows ME3's Destroy ending. John Shepard has Mark Vanderloo's default appearence. He is mainly Paragon and has made mostly corresponding choices. All possible crew members are alive at the start of this story with Ashley being saved on Virmire.  
> 

 

A slight rain of ash was falling from the starless sky. Already it had covered the forest floor like new snow. It was impossible to tell where the light was coming from but the trees drew long and threatening shadows over the dim whiteness.

 

Shepard was running but didn't seem to be getting anywhere, his boots sinking and whirling up new clouds of ash that surrounded him like a death shroud.  He know this place, had been here before but couldn't recall when. Time had no meaning here.

 

Whispers were all around him, ghosts of voices he once knew. Their silhouettes haunted the edge of his vision but he couldn't tell which ones were speaking. There was only one phrase he was able to decipher completely: "You did good, son. You did good." Shepard didn't know the meaning of the words but they made him feel  like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders. "I'm proud of you."

 

The young boy appeared out of nowhere in Shepard's path and made him stop. Eyes full of sorrow and accusations looked up at him, unblinking. Shepard shook his head slowly. "I did the right thing", he whispered, and with more certainty: "It's over." Flames crept up the small figure, devouring it. Even as his face was consumed and his essence scattered to mingle with the ashes the boy's accusing stare never wavered. Shepard smiled. Right now there was no sight more relieving than watching the boy burn away into nothingness. "It's over!", he laughed, a sound almost alien to him now. He turned his back on the fading flames and started to walk away into the night, new vitality coursing through him.

 

The sight of his hand catching fire made Shepard falter. Dismayed he began shaking it frantically. The fire only kept on spreading. His other limbs spontaneously combusted as he sank to his knees. Shepard closed his eyes desperately in hope of escaping the fire.

He awoke to a world of pain.

 

With his first breath he felt like his broken ribcage was a giant metal claw, crushing his lungs in an iron grip. The pain was enough to make him lose consciousness again instantly.

 

* * *

 

The second time Shepard woke his agony had given away to a dull ache and numbness. He figured that at least part of his lungs had collapsed but still he was breathing somehow. Opening his eyes he found that the blackness was unchanged. Blinded. He could still hear however and besides the constant ringing sound he made out noises. Something was coming towards him. There was no use trying to shout or even speak. He was far too busy breathing. Mustering all his strength his hand pushed its way upward, through ash and debris, grasping at thin air.

"Here! I think I have found him." That accent. Javik the Prothean, veteran and survivor of two wars against the Reapers, back to make sure he didn't forget his duties to the galaxy.

"Commander?"

I'll be just fine, thought Shepard, the fingers of his raised hand closing as it settled back into the dust.

 

* * *

 

When the light returned it immediately blinded him again. Shepard couldn't decide if he preferred the white or the black kind of blindness. After what seemed like minutes of oversaturation he could finally make out other colours. There was a particularly nice shade of blue hovering over him.

"He's coming around!", Liara remarked to someone close by but Shepard couldn't see them, even as a blur. Her voice was distant, as if speaking from under water. The second voice was higher pitch and raspy but still audible.

 

"Ah, observe the pupils adjusting.  His vision must have returned. Exquisite work that Quarian did with the synthetic iris. Remind me to applaud her will you? " There was no mistaking the shape of a Salarian head bent over him.

"Would you say it's a little early for some tests? Of course you would, but no matter. How about a simple eye test? Can't object to that, it does no harm does it? How many fingers am I holding up?"

 

"Orsdan!" Concern mingled with exasperation as Liara tried to force herself between the eager Salarian and Shepard. "Just make sure he doesn't wake until you can guarantee no unexpected circuit failures or bad tissue bonding or even a creaky joint. Or by the godess I'll..." She stopped to take a deep breath and when she continued her voice was completely calm. "Just send him back to sleep for now and leave us. Please."

Shepard couldn't quite take in all that was going on around him. Instead he just gazed upwards and smiled ever so faintly. Waking to the angry Asari standing over him still beat the stranger who had been Miranda. He just hoped that he didn't have crawl out of bed and shoot roomfuls of mechs anytime soon.

The drug cocktail intensified and Shepard was gladly swept away once more.

 

* * *

 

The sight of the ceiling almost startled him. How long had he been lying awake? More importantly, how long had he been out this time? And the time before that? The uncertainty made his head spin and made him feel nauseous but at least he was feeling something. His limbs felt sore but the iron claw over his lungs had released its grip. Overall he felt surprisingly good. Alive.

A wave of euphoria made Shepard sit up in his bed, a decision he regretted immediately. The room spun so fast he almost gagged.  Using all his mental strength to calm himself Shepard began to focus on small areas of the sickbay he supposed he was in. The room itself was unremarkable, white and sterile. Light poured through a matte frosted window. He could make out the silhouettes of trees through the glass. Definitely not on a ship then. The shapes seemed slightly exotic. Tropical? No way to tell in the controlled environment of the medbay.

Looking down at his arms he saw that there were still various tubes supplying him with different coloured liquids, hopefully not quite all of them vital. The humming machines he was hooked up to looked oddly out of place. Not like in any medbay he had seen recently. They looked slightly too bulky and old to still be in use. Limited resources maybe?

Shepard's wandering eyes reached the right hand corner where a makeshift couch made out of metal containers, mats and cushions had been placed close to his sickbed. On it lay the peacefully sleeping form of Liara T'Soni. She obviously hadn't dressed for bed and the datapad that was threatening to slide off her lap showed that she had probably been busy to a state of exhaustion. That was so like her.

 

Shepard's silent observation was cut short when one apparatus he was wired to started beeping loudly. Another noise was coming from a device around Liara's wrist. She jerked up from the couch, notepad clattering to the floor. "Shepard!" Hurrying over she touched her wrist once and the alarm stopped. "I'm sorry. It's a mechanism I had installed to inform me as soon as you regained consciousness." Sitting down gingerly at the end of his bed she smiled shamefully. "Turns out I just couldn't leave the room anyway."

A hand moved over the crumpled sheets until it found his and squeezed hard. It was so warm, her pulse no doubt racing. "How are you feeling?"

The sound of her voice, the look in her deep blue eyes, the uncertain smile on her lips: Shepard pulled at the hand she had offered and reeled her in. Liara gave way willingly and after one smooth motion came to rest lying on Shepard's propped up chest.

Betraying no emotion yet he traced his thumbs along Liara's cheekbones and followed the rise of her tentacles that had a texture of their own, as if he was admiring a particularly well made sculpture. Meanwhile Liara's gaze had lowered, maybe checking his chin, neck and chest for healing scars.

When Shepard's fingers met at the back of her head he pulled her forwards. Her eyes flickered up and met his just as their lips touched.

By way of answering her question without using words, Shepard opened his mind to her. Liara shut her eyes and reopened them, now black as a starless sky. He was no longer alone in his thoughts but she was a guest and no intruder. She had been a good teacher when it came to melding minds and so Shepard knew how to direct her to what she wanted to know. First he focused on his body, feeling the impulses of every nerve. It still ached but she could feel as he did, discovering that there was no larger damage left. 'Thank you.' Her mind was departing but Shepard pressed his lips tighter on to hers, as if the physical connection would somehow sustain the psychic. He still had something he wanted her to see.

 

They were on the citadel. The Crucible loomed above them, pulsing with potential power. Liara's hand was still in his so he guided her forwards, towards the shimmering construct of light in the shape of a boy. With a quizzical expression of wonderment Liara stood close beside him as his conversation with the catalyst played out exactly as it had done for real. By the end he turned from the boy and faced Liara once more. Eyes wide with revelation and apprehension stared back. Shepard pointed to the bundle of pipes and powercords to the right of the bright central beam emitting from the Crucible. "For Anderson", he said quietly, "for you."

A tear ran down her face, leaving a dark blue streak on her cheek. She nodded. "For us", she managed, her voice almost choked by emotion. Shepard gave a reassuring smile and headed down the ominously red lit walkway. He brought up his pistol and fired.

 

The connection broke and Liara's lips parted from his. "It's good to have you back," she smiled. Her eyes didn't seem to see him though, still processing what he had shown her.

They sat in silence for a while. He had known that Liara wouldn't take the truth of what happened on the Citadel lightly. Still, it was something he had to share, with her most of all. Liara was hugging her legs, her chin resting on her knees, looking at nothing. "Would you have chosen the same?"

Shepard regretted the question and sure enough Liara didn't answer. He sighed and sank back into his bed.

 

"The Geth are dead." She said it in a matter of fact kind of way, as if she was reciting a newsfeed or from a history book. The mask of her face cracked slightly, however. Shepard saw that her lips were trembling. As much as he wanted to reach out to her, he knew that she needed time. "Thousands of ships drifting around earth, devoid of life. The Quarians are still salvaging, mainly ship parts but also Geth platforms. Some still have hope of restoring what was lost." Shepard nodded. The fact that the Geth were gone would only hit home once he'd actually come face to face with the destruction he'd caused. He remembered sleepless nights, pondering whether the Geth should be considered equal to organic life, whether they "had a soul." All of it seemed so futile now that they had been wiped of the face of the galaxy by his choice anyway.

"How long was I out?" Still no eye contact from Liara. She seemed awfully interested in her fingernails."Four months, two weeks and six days", she recited. It sounded as if she had made a scratch on the wall for each day he remained asleep. "You woke four days ago but there were still some issues."

It was like being a science project all over again. Only this time it wasn't Cerberus who rebuilt him. At least he hoped not. Liara saw it as her duty to fill him in. She still seemed dazed but as was befitting of the Shadow Broker _and_ his lover she knew exactly what information mattered most to him.

 

"We're on Sur'Kesh. The energy pulse from the Crucible fried not only every synthetic part in your body but also wreaked havoc with many ship's systems and medical instruments. It was a miracle you were still alive by the time we found you and we still couldn't help you much." There was a desperation in her voice that clearly attested how she had felt at the time. "We had to fall back on older instruments, lower technology that seemed largely unaffected by the energy. A team of Salarian doctors, one of which was Orsdan, I don't know if you remember him from when you woke, helped us a great deal. They are experts on synthetics and managed to crudely repair your most vital systems. Then all we could do was wait. They assured us that if they had access to more resources and better instruments, if they could get you to Sur'Kesh, you would be as good as new in a few weeks. Pretty much everything on and around Earth needed repairing though. The Mass Relays were the highest priority. Do you have any idea how much work and genius it takes to repair a Relay? Well they managed."

 She shook her head, still in disbelief. "They managed and we were able to make the jump. And just in time too, the Salarians assured us. True to their word, we've only been here for a good two weeks and look at you." She finally met his eyes again but her smile seemed a little forced. "As handsome as ever."

Dropping his legs off the side of his bed, Shepard rested his head in his hands. It felt far too heavy. "I hope they didn't tamper with me too much. I don't want to suddenly discover an "ingenious" invention by a Salarian scientist. Like, say, fully synthetic gills."

"Don't worry Shepard, I was watching them like a hawk. I also fear I might have used my claws a little too often." Some good old mindflaying, Shepard mused. "But Orsdan is surely dying to check that everything is in order. If you desire some probing I can call him right away." His joints creaked as he lifted his weight off the bed. Quite a few of his muscles had probably atrophied but it still felt good to be standing on his own two legs again. "I'll put that off a little while longer I think."

 

He paced to the window while Liara absent mindedly followed his progress. The glass was moist with condensation. Out there the tropical heat of Sur'Kesh was probably stifling.

There was still one question he dreaded most. "What about the crew?" Might she be keeping some bad news from him?

"They are alive. Most have been checking up on you regularly, demanding constant updates. Look up there." Shepard turned his head and discovered the picture of the entire Normandy crew that they had taken on the night of the party. It looked a little singed around the edges. "Kasumi snuck into your apartment while the Citadel was still burning and out of bounds." Shepard shook his head, looking at all the smiling faces of his now scattered friends. "Don't worry Shepard, four months isn't quite two years. You'll find most of them unchanged. Although there are plenty of rumours of your demise yet again." He smiled. "I had almost gotten used to being alive again."

"Javik and Tali are very close by. It was Javik who found you in the rubble and I think he's decided that you can't look after yourself. You might just have a Prothean bodyguard." Shepard recalled Javik's voice as if it had been in a dream. He would have to thank that Prothean, despite the berating that would surely follow.

 "Tali helped the Salarians repair your implants. She did good work but Orsdan likes to overstate her involvement. If I didn't know better I'd say he has a thing for her. If that is even possible for a Salarian scientist." Laughing Shepard imagined a Salarian running after the Quarian. "I doubt he's her type."

It felt good to banter about the crew, almost as if they were still on the Normandy and everyone was going about their business somewhere in their little corner of the ship. "You think she likes men with a nicer behind?", Liara teased. Shepard was glad that she had forgotten her concerns or at least put them off for later. Only then did he realize that she was referring to his buttocks. The papery hospital gown he was wearing left his back and behind completely bare. "Hey!", he only half faked his offense. Liara was smirking. "There are some clothes in that locker by your bed."

Inside he found light civilian clothes, ideal for the climate of Sur'Kesh. They fitted him just fine and he wondered if Liara had seen to that. "Much more dignified", she remarked and moved close to him. Shepard put his arms around her without thinking. She looked a little lost. Four months she had watched over him, pleading to the goddess that he might soon wake. Now that he was back on his feet she didn't know what would be next. "What are you going to do?", there was an anxiousness in her voice which suggested that she was hoping for a particular response. "Garrus told me you would retire if you lived through the reaper war."

Was this what she wanted? The little blue children had always been a dream of a far away future they would likely never see. Now the possibility was suddenly real.

"Are you still the Shadow Broker?" She hadn't anticipated that question but after a moment of puzzlement she knew what he was getting at. "Yes. At least until I find a trustworthy successor."

"Then I am still a council Spectre." Did she look relieved? Shepard thought so. After the times they had been through, simply being a Spectre seemed a return to normality. He reckoned they both needed that for now. "I should have known", Liara smiled, "Ashley has returned to her duties as well and is already off on a classified mission." He raised his eyebrows. "Not even you know what it is?"

"I might have my suspicions." A wink and nothing more.  

 

Having held her for a while, Shepard released her and turned towards the door. Outside the galaxy would await him. Certainly there were dozens of people wishing to be notified when he returned and requiring his presence immediately. Liara had just spared him the details so as not to overwhelm him.

"I suppose I had better suffer this Orsdan first. I don't want sparks flying out of my eyes anytime soon."

"Shepard, one more thing." He turned back to see Liara sitting on his bed once more, maybe reminiscing about the months she had had him all to herself. "I know you'll probably want to gather the Normandy crew as soon as possible, past and present. But you have to remember that everyone suffered great losses in the war. Ashley is on a mission, Garrus still hasn't reached Palaven to see what is left of it, Wrex longs for Tuchanka... Just don't be surprised if their priorities lie elsewhere for now." Her voice grew very solemn indeed. "And Joker. Shepard, no one has heard from him since the crew was disbanded on earth and he left for Tiptree. He might not be the same again."

Shepard bit his lip as a vivid memory of EDI's smile played across his mind.  


	2. XID327

 

The floor shuddered and the rattling of armour against metal filled the compartment. Break thrusters fired and Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams was pushed back down into her seat after what had felt like freefall. Mustering the Alliance soldiers that were sitting all around her, some faces pale, others flushed with adrenaline, she radiated a calm that she didn't feel.

Seated opposite her was a quiet young soldier with handsome features slightly obscured by the tinted glass of his helmet. Johnson was his name if she recalled correctly. Or was it Jason? Jason Johnson? Hardly. Ashley hadn't had enough time to get to know the soldiers she was commanding. Shepard wouldn't approve. On the other hand the crew of the Normandy had also been smaller.

Commanding a squad of her own again would take some getting used to. A few weeks of training would have come in handy but that was a luxury she didn't have. As a Spectre she was expected to adapt. Adapt and survive.

"What do you expect we're going to find down there, ma'am?" For some reason this Jason reminded her a lot of Kaidan. Maybe it was his polite, controlled way of speaking. The memory of Kaidan always came with a pang of guilt. Now that she was in command, the power over life and death might well come to rest in her hands. Would she choose this soldier over other members of her squad just because she suspected to know his name?

"Jason, is it?" The young man nodded. "Well Jason, I have about as much of a clue as you. But I know that if it's Reaper related, I'll have a bone to pick with Shepard for not finishing his damn job."

 

The jolt of impact was almost powerful enough to dislocate joints but when the soldiers' harnesses released they jumped to their feet unfazed and ready for action. The bulkhead opened and slammed down into the dusty ground of the colony world, forming a ramp. "Fan out in groups of two and search the buildings. Keep in radio contact at all times and report any suspicious sightings to me." Her squad surged out into the dusk, battle partners that had been assigned beforehand and had trained together finding each other instantly. "Jason you're with me." If he was disgruntled about having to team up with his commander he didn't show it.

 

At first the settlement resembled a ghost town. Ashley got a strange feeling in her gut which reminded her far too much of Horizon as they passed through dust covered, abandoned streets and empty houses. There was a strange sense of relief when she discovered her first pool of dried blood. "Old bloodstains here in northeast sector", a voice in her helmet reported a similar sighting, "and is that- An arm, removed at the elbow." More grizzly reports flooded in one by one. She signalled Jason to a halt, refusing to pass further into the unlit apartment building they had entered. "Everyone regroup back at the ship as swiftly as possible. Enemy forces may still be present. We will-" A wet popping sound came from further up the staircase. Jason immediately activated the flashlight on his Avenger rifle and traced it up the steps.

Bringing up her own weapon Ashley's warning shout came too late when Jason's beam caught something on the top stair. There was a high pitched squealing sound. Ashley opened fire but her rounds bit concrete where the small shape had been a split second before. The beam of Jason's flashlight danced wildly up the wall and there was a short burst of assault rifle fire before the Avenger left his grip and clattered to the floor. His hands tried desperately to reach his helmet when the creature that was obscuring his visor exploded with a pop.

 

Jason turned towards Ashley. Under the smoking green goo she could just about make out his eyes wide with dread. "No!", she screamed, rushing forward and grabbing Jason's helmet, she tried desperately to wrench it off. It wouldn't budge, the acid had already corroded and jammed the seals. The glass visor folded inwards like wet paper, making contact with Jason's skin. Ashley looked on in horror as Jason's face melted. The aggressive liquid eat into his nose and eyes, leaving gaping wet holes. His jaw opened impossibly wide when he screamed, cheeks dissolving, leaving a brief impression of a manic grin before his lower jaw sloughed off.  The acrid smell of burning flesh rose from the remains.

Ashley let go of the helmet and Jason's head lolled as it scraped down against the wall. Aiming her rifle at the twitching body of her subordinate and clenching her jaw, she opened fire.

 

<><><> 

 

 

"Everything seems to be quite in order. I must say, it was a splendid piece of work we managed to do on you Commander, simply splendid." Shepard pulled his shirt back on, still feeling the pinpricks where Orsdan's monitoring needles had pierced his skin to reach the synthetics beneath. "So I'm ready for action by your leave?" He was thankful that the Salarians had restored his body to full functionality but the uneasy feeling of being tampered with and unable to comprehend the workings of his own body was still there. "Yesyes, but I must insist on accompanying you on your ship to study any long term effects." A frown showed how pleased Shepard was with that notion.  "At the moment I don't even have a ship"

"Aah", said Orsdan, raising a finger. "I do believe that the Salarian STG are planning to give you command of one of their stealth vessels until you reach Earth." Shepard raised his eyebrows, this was news to him. Most likely the Salarians wished to court the alleged saviour of the galaxy, despite his mixed history with them. "I suppose that will do."

 

The door to Orsdan's clinic opened, revealing a very familiar looking Quarian. "Shepard!", Tali exclaimed and bounded forwards to meet him. Shepard grinned as his arms where pinned to his sides by a tight hug. He also didn't mind the way Tali's metal faceplate awkwardly grazed his jaw. She let go and fixed him with wide glowing eyes. "Liara. Just told me," she panted. There had obviously been quite a bit of jogging involved. "You look. Healthy." Shepard nodded, "And you had a part in fixing me I was told."

With a wave of her hand she dismissed that claim but it was obvious that it meant a lot to her. "Oh that was nothing. I just had some knowledge from my work on the Geth that I could put to good use, that was all." Orsdan wouldn't have any of it. "Miss Zorah was a huge help to us, don't let her fool you, Commander." If Tali had heard the Salarian's compliment she had decided not to react. "Come Shepard, you have some catching up to do. Also there's a ship to inspect."

Striding off, Tali didn't give Shepard time to object. He mumbled a quick farewell to Orsdan and followed her out. The Salarian shouted "Bye!" after them but Shepard wasn't sure if it was meant for him or Tali.

 

Slowing her pace as soon as they had put Orsdan's clinic behind them, Tali gave Shepard a sideways glance. "We were all very worried about you, Shepard. Kheela, after the Geth and EDI we feared..." Gaze lowered to the floor as if studying the tiled pattern as he walked, Shepard wondered how the Quarians had reacted to the destruction of the Geth. While Tali had always mistrusted them, Legion had done his part in winning her over. But only a few Quarians had such close contact to the Geth mind. He suspected that where there was grief many also felt a guilty sense of relief. Admiral Han Gerrel was sure to consider it a problem that had taken care of itself. "What you and the Salarians managed to do here with me... Wouldn't you also be able to repair the Geth?"

A long sigh followed. "I don't know, Shepard," she said, sounding a bit weary and wringing her hands as she always did when considering a problem, "Your synthetics are a comparatively small part of your body. Your organic structures managed to keep you alive and your brain is still completely organic. The Geth consciousness was wiped out totally. We would have to repair hundreds if not thousands of Geth, all more damaged than you, to get their form of intelligence back." She shook her head. "Even staying optimistic I would say that takes years."  She was still simplifying of course. The debates on morals and further questions would probably take decades themselves before any decisions concerning the Geth were reached.

"I'd say we let the politicians look into it first." A polite cough by Tali reminded him and he went a little red in the face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I still haven't gotten used to you being an Admiral."

"Don't worry, Shepard. For now I have a representative on the board. I will return there in time, but first I had to make sure that you could return too." Smiling thankfully, Shepard could only imagine how hard it must have been for Tali to choose him over her homeworld. It also made him a little sad, because without any Reapers to fight, it would only be a matter of time until she returned to Rannoch, maybe for good, friendship or not. "That means a lot to me, Tali."

 

Tali led him up and down steps, across multiple walkways and out into the open twice. The heat and humidity of Sur'Kesh were staggering. His shirt was drenched in minutes, he could only imagine what Tali felt like in the tight confines of her suit. Still, there was no sign of discomfort on her part as she purposefully strode towards the hangar. Inside the vast metal building it was almost pleasant.

The hangar was mostly empty. Countless empty docks told of high Salarian activity elsewhere in the system. Shepard supposed that everyone must still have their hands full in the wake of the war, transporting resources and survivors, staying on alert. Most of the ships left where bulky cargo carriers most likely undergoing critical maintenance. The two of them were dwarfed among the huge vessels, so when they reached the frigate it seemed almost small.

The Salarian frigate had a simple but elegant shape. No paint had been applied to the hull, leaving it a dull grey that blended in with the hangar. If one were to study the ships from afar it was quite possible to miss this one completely.

"A fine ship," an unmistakeable voice said behind him, "Still, not an equal of your Normandy". The Prothean had been reclining in a recess of the hangar's wall. "Javik! It's nice to see some familiar faces, even ones with four eyes." Gracing him with one of his rare smiles, Javik extended a hand. "It is good to see that you have tired of resting in your bed, Commander. I feared I would have to take the credit of saving the galaxy myself." Shaking his hand, Shepard noticed he was carrying his particle rifle. "Expecting trouble?" Javik shrugged. "The security in this facility is inadequate. This military vessel should be guarded night and day, yet these fly-eaters have somehow found more important duties to attend to. I am simply making sure there are no attempts at sabotage."

"Sabotage?" He frowned. "I thought we had taken care of pretty much everyone in the galaxy that would want to kill us." Javik wasn't in the mood for jests. "You are naive if you believe that, Commander. For every enemy you dispose of, you make two more your enemy."

He supposed that the Prothean might be paranoid but in a way Shepard was grateful of it. What Javik had told him in London still sat uncomfortably in his mind. As long as he had enemies to kill he hoped that Javik would put off his thoughts of suicide. "I don't see who could dislike me for destroying the Reapers." The Prothean smirked. "You enacted the vengeance upon the Reapers that I could not, Commander. For that you have earned more than my respect. What is more, you also took care of the synthetic blight that were the Geth. The galaxy will thank you for it in time."

"I'll be on the ship, Shepard. Come find me later." Tali's words were icy as she stormed off, without a further glance at Javik.

"That was uncalled for", Shepard reprimanded the Prothean, close to anger. "The Quarians finally made peace with the Geth, a cooperation that would have helped both sides,  and then they got obliterated all the same. You should keep those opinions to yourself." Javik was unfazed and patted his particle rifle. "Even after witnessing the Reapers you primitives remain naive. Come the next synthetic uprising you will remember my words, Commander."

 

The ship's interior was almost excessively modest. Salarian stealth ships were designed with nothing but practicality in mind. There was no space that could be considered wasted, which resulted in the ship being considerably smaller than the Normandy SR-2. The spacious CIC of the Normandy was substituted by a small room with a row of chairs, desks, monitors and nothing more. The cockpit lay directly beyond. Here Shepard made the acquaintance of the Salarian pilot Jael. Unlike Orsdan who had installed himself in a cramped compartment on the lower deck, Jael was a man of few words. The only talk Shepard managed to get out of him was in response to his questions. This way he learned that the ship possessed a designation number instead of a name and that this number was changed every day. Today it was XID327. The STG seemed to take the meaning of stealth to an entirely different level than the Alliance.

 

The pilot was tiring company so Shepard decided to check on the rest of his crew while the technicians went through final checks before takeoff.  Instead of steps and an elevator there was only a shaft, illuminated by red light, in which a ladder connected the three decks of the ship. Descending one level, Shepard found himself in a narrow corridor. Unlabeled doors hid the functions of the rooms beyond. He tried his luck with the first to his right. Beep. Access denied. Frowning he tried one further on, to no avail. A Salarian technician who was climbing up the ladder noticed his efforts and offered him a keycard. "Come by engineering tomorrow to update the card, it stops working at midnight." Shepard was beginning to dislike the workings on this ship already.

 

Ding. This time the door slid open and revealed a small room with four bunks, dimly illuminated from above. The bottom bunks were both occupied. To the left Tali lay prone, staring up at the mattress above her. Liara had claimed the right bunk, her legs off the side with an extranet terminal on her lap. She looked up and smiled but didn't put her terminal aside. "Hello Commander. Do you like your new ship?" Slumping down next to her, Shepard sighed. "I suppose it'll have to do. Makes me miss the Normandy even more though." Liara nodded in agreement. "This is a poor excuse for the Shadow Broker's office indeed."

"What's up with you, Tali?" She hadn't budged since he entered. Now she raised her arms and let them drop back onto the bed with a thump. "Oh I'm just bored. The Salarian engineers won't let me examine the engine room. They treat me like some kind of spy."

"Want me to have a word with them? I have the command here after all." Tali declined. "Nono it's fine for now. But I hope you had a word with that Prothean Bosh'tet." She still sounded angry. Javik really didn't have the gift of making, even just keeping, friends. "I have. For all the good it did."

"He hasn't been all snide remarks and cynicism", Liara interjected. "He helped me a great deal with my book. It's almost ready to be published, if only I could settle on a title."

Tali snorted, the sound distorted beyond all recognition by her mask. "May I suggest 'Best Kept Frozen'?"

"No, you may not."

 

Shepard got up quickly. "I'll leave you two to it," he excused himself but didn't know where to head next. "Do you know if I have my own room?"

"The Commander's quarters are at the end of the corridor. They are a bit more spacious", Liara answered and then added with a wink: "I'll be sure to come for a visit later on." She left it open if it was to be with him or to get away from the cramped environment of the crew quarters. As the door closed behind Shepard he could hear Tali exclaim something in shocked realization: "Javik isn't sleeping in here is he?!"

 

Passing the cantina, Shepard spotted Javik amidst five lightly armoured Salarians. At first he suspected that the Prothean had gotten himself into trouble but when he got closer he recognized Javik's tale of the last days of the Reaper war, 50'000 Years ago. It was easy to forget that he belonged to the privileged few who had met a living, breathing Prothean. Javik and his stories were enough to fascinate even veteran STG operatives.

He might have lingered a while longer in case this was one of the battles he hadn't heard of, but the sound of klaxons made the Salarians disperse at once and Javik to break off his story. Takeoff was imminent. Swiftly he ascended the ladder and passed by the CIC to reach the cockpit. Jael seemed irritated by his presence. Flying was his domain, he didn't need someone looking over his shoulder. Still, he stayed polite. "We will have you back on Earth soon, Commander."

"No", Shepard said sharply. Jael looked about in confusion. "Sir, I have my orders..." Crossing his arms, Shepard remained adamant. "You are to follow _my_ orders." Jael confirmed impatiantly. "You don't wish to return to Earth?"

"I do, but first we need to pick up someone from Tiptree."

 

The hangar bay's huge metal panels shuddered open and the XID327 darted out, engines barely audible as it climbed through Sur'Kesh's cloudy sky, the bleak hull shining with reflecting sunlight as it left the planet's atmosphere.

 


	3. The Last Joke

Fastening the last pieces of his armour, he caught a glimpse of himself in the cracked mirror of his rented apartment. A man in his thirties stared back mockingly. He had bright blue eyes and a stubbly beard as light as his blonde hair. Exceptionally rare natural features for a human in this day and age, a blessing and a curse. A look like that didn't slip the mind. Luckily he had managed to acquire the helmet of an Alliance soldier. Its tinted visor was all the protection he needed out there. A man with a rifle at his side in the garb of Alliance forces wasn't about to cause any raised eyebrows, not in times like these.

He checked once more that all his personal belongings were stored away safely in the small bag under the bed. Finding a new apartment right away would have put his mind more at ease, but first there was a meeting to attend.

 

The streets were bustling with activity. The noise of repair work was deafening. On each corner there was a housing complex being rebuilt, scaffolding obscuring the face of the city like a beauty mask that promised a prettier sight once it was removed. He wondered if the blemishes of a Reaper war were quite so fleeting.

Worse than any destruction was another observation he made at every corner he passed. For every human he encountered there was a suit-rat, a bird or a calamari not far off. They had come for the war and now looked as if they were here to stay. Like parasites they were sucking his planet dry. They always needed more food, more resources to repair their ships, while the ravaged Earth barely had enough to sustain its human population.      

He couldn't say that he blamed the aliens all that much. When in need any species would take what they were given. If the last stand had taken place on Thessia, then he wouldn't give a damn if Asari were starving as long as he got his meal. No, the aliens were only symptoms of the real problem. Osoba's policies regarding them were unacceptable. He had somehow managed to be elected as Councillor for humanity by promising peace and a bright future for all. In reality he was a weak willed coward who got steamrolled by the other Councillors. There was a possibility that they were behind his rise to power in the first place.

The mere thought of it left him with a sour taste in the mouth. He managed to avoid a puddle and a Quarian on his way into a side street that was cordoned off. The buildings here were considered too unsafe to repair and would be torn down soon. They made for ideal meeting places for those who didn't wish to be observed.

An old conference hall had been deemed appropriate and most unlikely to cave in. There were no guards posted on the street outside so no suspicions would arise, but as soon as he entered and began to follow a dank corridor he was intercepted by two armoured forms.

"Phrase?", was the simple prompt. It was crude and unnecessary security. Once inside a stranger would be immediately recognized. And not permitted to leave.

"Humanity first!" He took off his helmet and beamed at the guards. They nodded in silent recognition and let him pass.

 The gathering was larger than he had ever seen it but there still couldn't have been more than forty heads. Over the assembly hung a banner that displayed the planet Earth modelled in the shape of a clenched fist. The new symbol of Terra Firma. However, amongst the crowd he spotted plenty of Cerberus insignia. Ex-Cerberus were often proud but foolish. He didn't need an icon on his shoulder to remind him of what he believed in.

A man had noticed his arrival and was now heading towards him. A few years ago Charles Saracino had looked not unlike himself, bar his hair and eye colour. Now Saracino's role as the leader of Terra Firma had begun to take its toll on him, numerous worry-lines crisscrossed his forehead.

"Good to see you made it, Svensson."  He could tell that Saracino felt uncomfortable even being close to him. It didn't stop a handshake and a fake smile. "We have a lot to discuss."

 

<><><>

 

Night had no meaning in space, but most races synchronized their ship time with the mean time of their home world. On board the XID327 it was getting late as the sun set over Sur'Kesh's main continent. 

Shepard's quarters weren't much more spacious than the bunk room, but at least he didn't have to share them with anyone. He wished there was a window so he could lose himself in the blackness of space. The Salarian's seemed to view windows much as the Geth had: Structural weaknesses. The STG obviously had no need for comforts. Admirable, but a softer bed wouldn't kill them.

His limbs still felt weak and sometimes there was a tingling numbness in his fingers. As fit as he pretended to be, extensive reconstruction of his insides took a while to recover from. He was going to call it an early night when there was a knock on his door. Of course, Liara had promised to visit.

 

"Can I come in?" There was a beeping noise. "I mean, could you let me in?"

Cursing the Salarians once more, Shepard accomplished the major feat of getting up, walking to the door and pressing the key panel. The door slid open and Liara shuffled inside. Judging by her white bathrobe and slippers the ship did at least seem to have a shower. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek and sat down cross-legged on his bed.

"Oh", she exclaimed disappointedly. "I was hoping you also had a better mattress."

"No, but I can't really complain. We've got a top-of-the-range STG stealth ship to fly around in after all."

Shepard lay down next to her and watched her carefully dry the gaps between her head tentacles with a small towel. It was a peculiar sight for a human but she never understood why it made him smirk. This time she ignored him.

"I've been thinking, Shepard. About what you showed me, what happened on the Citadel."

She deserved some answers, he just never felt like talking about it. Maybe if he could make her understand his choice it wouldn't keep nagging at him when he was alone.

Liara put her towel down and looked at him.

"You said you chose to destroy the Reapers and the Geth at least in part because of me. Am I responsible for the death of a race?"

 

She didn't make it sound like an accusation but put that way it still struck Shepard hard. Every night before going to sleep he had repeated the thought process that had led him to that decision. Every time it was slightly different, as if he was justifying himself in hindsight. Still, he would try and explain as best he could.

" At the crucible I had three options, but all of them were given by my enemy. One offered me the chance to become a god, in many senses of the word. I never asked for eternal life, for, what was pretty much, control of the galaxy. And who is to say that living forever wouldn't break my mind? Millennia from now the galaxy might need a new Normandy, new heroes to take me down. I couldn't let that happen."

Liara nodded and seemed to accept his arguments. However, somehow this option seemed to fit Liara most of all, if Shepard allowed himself to think of her that way. As the Shadow Broker she already had power unmatched by many in the galaxy. Would she have been able to refuse?

 

"The Catalyst promised that synthesizing organic and synthetic life would end the conflict. How could I trust it? Moments before it had been bent on destroying me, now it wanted me to sacrifice my life to remake everything. I wouldn't become a god but would let the Catalyst play god instead. As far as I knew, synthesis would do away with conflict because it also destroyed free will. I wasn't about to bring every living being under Reaper control."

"I can see that. Even if the catalyst was honest, no being should have the power to remake all life in the galaxy against its will."

"So that brought me to the last resort." Shepard sighed.

"I still relied on the Catalyst actually letting me destroy its entire race. But if it worked, I would have finished my mission. It was what we had built the Crucible for. No one except me was told the side-effect it would have, but I'm sure Anderson and Admiral Hackett would have done the same."

 

There was more to it than that and Liara knew it. There was a moment of silence before he continued.

"Is it wrong that after all I've done, I still wanted to come out of it alive? As small as the chance was, I don't think I'll ever know if I chose it to complete the mission or more for the hope of seeing you again."

How would she take this? Her expression was unreadable.

"Look, I know how it sounds..."

 

Liara shook her head but stretched out to lie on the bed beside him.

"I'll probably feel guilty for the rest of my life, Shepard. But never, ever think I'd wish you had chosen differently."

The intensity of her words were matched by the look she gave him. Finally a hesitant smile crossed her lips.

 "After all, I did make you promise"

He recalled the turmoil of emotions he had experienced when the Normandy had carried her off, the sadness and desperation of having to leave her behind and the hope of seeing her again.

"I'll keep it, no matter what. I'm always coming back, Liara."

 

She took his hands and carefully placed them on the knot that tied the front of her bathrobe. Moving towards him, her mouth close to his ear, she whispered softly.

"You might have to convince me again."

As he untied the knot, Liara slowly slid her hands under his shirt and, when he was done, helped him lift it over his head. Breathing heavily, Shepard realized how much he had longed for her touch, the feel of her beautifully textured skin on his. Arms under her robe, he pressed Liara against him and she did the same. Strong thighs closed around his waist and pushed down his trousers in a motion that rubbed her full chest against his. When their lips met, hers seemed almost hungry. They embraced eternity together and the sensations that washed over them made them both gasp in united amazement.

 

Afterwards, Liara mumbled something about having to go back to her bunk and what Tali and Javik would think. Shepard made no move to release her and pretended to be asleep. She wasn't going anywhere.

 

 ***

 

Tiptree put Earth's claim of being the "Blue Planet" to shame. Its continents only covered a small fraction of the globe, leaving vast oceans in between. The landmasses got plenty of rainfall and the rich soil provided a good bed for crops. Agriculture dominated on Tiptree and had provided the rest of the small colonies in the system with food. The Reapers had put a stop to that of course.

 

Observing the planet as their ship entered orbit and then started to descend, Shepard couldn't tell that this planet had ever come under attack. From what Joker had told him he wasn't expecting huge population hubs whose blackened remains could be seen from this distance. Somehow he doubted that Earth looked quite so innocent and unscathed.

As  the intricate network of rivers became visible, Tiptree began to reveal its scars. Fires had ravaged most of the farmland that passed underneath them and it had been left uncultivated. Unsurprising really, Liara had told him that the current inhabitants of the entire planet numbered only a few hundred. Most had been killed or processed, many that fled hadn't returned yet. Joker must have been one of the first to witness what was left.

Finding the Moreau farm was easy. They had the coordinates and there were no other buildings for miles around. The Moreau's must have appreciated the solitude but Shepard could almost feel Joker's urge to get away from this place and reach for the stars. They couldn't be sure that Joker had returned here but it seemed by far the most likely place.

 

The Salarian ship touched down as softly as a kitten's paw and Tali couldn't believe that they had, in fact, landed. "Forget what I told you about the Normandy, Shepard. This ship makes me feel a lot more uncomfortable." She also objected to his suggestion of going to call on Joker alone. "We were all part of the Normandy and even I liked EDI. We should go meet him together."

Javik crossed his arms. "I fear I will not be of much use to you, Commander. I do not mourn the AI and cannot offer words of comfort."

Only Liara remained neutral on the matter. "I tried many times to speak with him, after what happened. He didn't seem to be listening." She considered a moment. "We were all friends but I think you had a stronger connection to him."

Shepard recalled some of his conversations with Joker. They hadn't always seen eye to eye, but he had always counted on him and let him know what a damned good pilot he was. In return Joker had tried his best to make sure Shepard kept up his good humour.

"I'll go alone." It was final.

 

Multiple buildings made up the farm. Shepard guessed that the largest, which wasn't much more than a grey concrete block, was used for storage and as a garage for numerous vehicles. It was separate from a sizeable prefab house, probably for workers, and a much more appealing dwelling that seemed to have been built on the spot. The owner must have had a flair for traditional earthern architecture, Shepard couldn't recall when he had last seen a tiled roof. It was safe to assume this was the Moreau family residence.

The wooden front door looked like it had been broken in and crudely mended. After hesitating a moment, Shepard wrapped loudly on the door. There were sudden noises from within and finally Joker's anxious voice.

"Who's there?!"

"It's Shepard." Deciding not to mention everyone else he was travelling with, he went on: "I've come all the way from Sur'Kesh. We need to talk."

"Shit, Shepard. You're one tough sonofabitch, I knew you'd never-" Joker's voice grew louder until the front door finally creaked open.

The Jeff Moreau that now stood before him bore little resemblance to the man who used to sit in the Normandy's pilot chair. His hair was much longer, unkempt and greasy, just like his beard. The clothes he wore looked weeks old. It was clear he hadn't been taking care of himself. Instead of being embarrassed about the state he was in, Joker beckoned him inside. "A cup of tea? Something stronger?"

"Just tea, thank you." There was still a homely charm to the wood furnished rooms, but some of the furniture just lay there, toppled. Shepard felt a crunch of glass under his boot. The mess must have been exactly how Joker had found it when he arrived here. Passing the dining room he saw that in contrast, here the chairs were neatly arranged around the large table. It looked like the Moreau family might gather here at any moment and discuss the day's work on the fields. Joker had probably focused his efforts in this room and arranged everything the way he remembered it. Shepard followed Joker into the living room, where his heart froze.

 

Reclining in a large leather armchair sat EDI, a wineglass in her hand. Shepard just stood there dumbfounded while her metal retinas looked right past him. "Say hello to the Commander, EDI."

The lips of EDI's metal body didn't move, but what he heard was unmistakeably her voice. "Currently Cerberus consists of approximately 150 agents and operators organized into three cells."

Shepard blinked. He found it difficult to find words for what he had just witnessed. "EDI, you're- Cerberus? They're still a threat?" A moment of silence followed during which he stared into EDI's lifeless eyes.

"I have no solid data on material or fiscal resources. Spending trends indicate that Cerberus has a reliable income of several billion credits per year."

His head was spinning and he experienced a strong feeling of déjà-vu. He must have had this conversation before.

"Don't worry, Commander. She's just messing with you."

Joker had moved into the kitchen and was noisily trying to find two cups. Without taking his eyes off EDI, Shepard sat down on the couch opposite her. For a second EDI's orange visor flickered to life before disappearing again. They sat in silence until Joker returned from the kitchen. He handed Shepard a cup, poured a transparent liquid into his own and into EDI's wineglass, which seemed like a strange kind of libation. By the stench of it Shepard guessed it was very potent, yet Joker drank it like water. He shook his head in disapproval.

"You're not a very good host, EDI. Why don't you tell the Commander what we've been up to while he was gone?" 

"Imagine if you'd spent your entire life wearing gloves. One day someone takes them off. You can finally touch the world. Feel it."

Joker chuckled. "Hey, too much information!"

Now Shepard was certain that he had heard all of what EDI was saying before, he wasn't imagining things. These were fragments of past conversations she was repeating, probably in reaction to voice prompts. The way Joker was treating them as actual responses made him feel even more uncomfortable.

"How did she get like this?"

Joker shrugged. "Hey, she's always been very dramatic and cheeky. That's why I can't resist her."

Shepard swallowed hard. Maybe this was a poor attempt at a joke. What seemed far more likely was that Joker had created his own little world in which EDI was still more than a taped voice and his father and sister might still be home in time for dinner.

Taking a sip of his stale tasting tea, Shepard considered his options. He was sure Joker's sanity was still there, somewhere beneath this crazy facade. But breaking through that wall might also be dangerous, his imagined world providing an escape from grief and anger. If he wanted Joker back, then he would just have to risk it.

"Jeff." Joker had avoided making eye contact ever since he had entered, now he left him no choice. "This isn't EDI, only an echo of what she was. I want you to tell me what happened."

Joker held his stare for a while longer and he could see tears well up in his eyes, jaw quivering. Then he buried his face in his hands.

"They're gone. All of them, gone. Hillary, Dad: Dead, processed as far as I know. Wiped out with the Reapers."

Shepard put a hand on Joker's shoulder but he shrugged it off. His suppressed emotions were still unfolding.

"You should have seen EDI spasm when the pulse hit. She cried out for me but her voice distorted into screeching. When it was over her eyes were blackened shells."

Joker's fists were clenching and unclenching. When he looked up, Shepard was taken aback by the hostility in his eyes.

"I tried to have them fix her, you know. But they had more important things to do, the Salarians. There were relays to repair, a Commander to save. Oh they tried. They managed to restore parts of her memory core and her voice system. Then they gave up and you know what they told me? That she was dead, that if I had any respect for her as an AI I should let her rest."

His shaking hands raised the cup he had set down on the table. Only now did Shepard notice the "SR-2" inscribed on it.

"So I left. I suspected what I would find here but instead there was nothing. No bodies to bury, only ghosts. And then you show up."

Joker's voice deteriorated into frantic laughter. 

"You show up, looking as if nothing happened. They didn't let you rest, did they? The Commander is more important than the pilot's glorified sex-toy!" He snorted.

"Back from the dead, business as usual. Liara waiting by your bedside I guess." Joker's angered grimace disappeared and he met Shepard's eyes again, his voice growing calm.

"I know why you came, Commander. But there is nothing left for me on the Normandy. She's an empty hull without EDI. And I don't think I could take orders from you anymore. Now please leave me here."

Shepard felt desperation take hold of him. What had robbed Joker of his loved ones and almost taken his sanity couldn't also be allowed to destroy their friendship.

"Jeff, please, I know how you must feel, but I can guarantee-" It was the wrong thing to say.

"LEAVE!" The Normandy cup shattered against the wall behind him and Joker rose to his feet, his whole body seemed to shake. With a sinking feeling, Shepard had to accept that there was nothing he could accomplish here. He put down his tea carefully, stood up, noted EDI's seemingly accusing stare and headed for the door. Joker made no attempts to follow him. Before stepping outside, Shepard called back through the hall.

"I'll come back for you, Jeff."

There was no response.

 

It had started to rain and the mud pulled at Shepard's boots as he headed back to the ship, reinforcing his own reluctance to leave. Despite everything he had to remain rational: Joker was in no condition to pilot a ship. He needed therapy and support from his friends, but Shepard was still a Council Spectre. He had his duties and needed a pilot, not a patient. Still, it would be best if Joker accompanied them to Earth, but after his outburst that didn't look like a possibility. Given enough time to cool off and overcome his grief, Joker might still realize that he missed the Normandy and its crew.

Shepard decided that he would check up on him again once they had returned to Earth and he had seen to the most important requests which no doubt came from the Council and Admiral Hackett.

 

Trudging up the ship's ramp, Tali was eagerly awaiting him. Shepard just shook his head sadly. He couldn't stop her from storming past him and going to knock on Joker's door personally. She returned after waiting quite a while, the fabric covering her helmet completely drenched. "No answer", she said in a frustrated voice. The ramp retracted and sealed the hull. Shepard wondered if the sound of the ship taking off could even be heard from inside the house.


	4. Blood and Sweat

Admiral Hackett stood with his arms folded behind his back, staring at an empty gunmetal-grey wall. The cold artificial light dimmed and for a moment he was plunged into darkness. Then a thin ray of light began to trace upwards from the ground, making its way from his legs over his chest, reflected intensely by the numerous medals that were part of his formal attire. It outlined his face with all its imperfections, the wrinkles of an age of serving the alliance and the large scar, witness of the sacrifices he had made doing so. All this detailed information on his appearance was simultaneously sent through the ether, so that his counterpart might be at ease, seeing a familiar face. The Admiral himself experienced a quite complex cocktail of emotions as Commander Shepard began to take shape in front of him.

"Commander Shepard" Hackett's voice had the sincerity of a man meeting an old friend by pure chance. "I am glad to see all my reports proved true. Our galaxy's hero rises yet again."

"It's good to see you, Admiral" The voice sounded like it was spoken through a can and yet it was unmistakably Shepard's. "I am back on my feet and reporting for duty, Sir." The Admiral had to chuckle. No matter the harm he suffered, Shepard would get back up and press on, his sense of duty second to none. But this time he had well and truly completed the mission. The Reapers he had fought against so valiantly were dust. Was it weird that he had expected Shepard's legend to end with the demise of his nemesis?

"The Galaxy owes you a great debt, Commander. I believe both the Alliance and the Council can't possible ask anymore of you. " The Admiral shook his head. "But if my suspicions are correct the thought of retirement must be more alien to you than the Reaper threat."

"Eventually, Admiral. You're wrong to think I've never considered it. A sunny beach on Earth or maybe a house with a view of Thessia's skyline are tempting, but I'm sure there is a lot to be done to remove the mark the Reapers left."

"I'm afraid you're right." He hesitated a moment before he continued. "To tell you the truth, I never spared much thought for what would happen once the Reapers were defeated. In my mind I must have imagined a new dawn for our Galaxy where men like you and me were no longer needed. But of course things go on as they always have. The strong pray on the weak and after a war of this scale there are many who are more vulnerable than others." Shepard stood in polite silence. He must have sensed that this was going somewhere. While they were friends of a sort their relationship had always been primarily professional and Hackett liked to keep it that way. "There are many questions I'd like to ask you about what happened in the last moments of the war and surely you have a great deal about what has been going on since. But those are things best discussed in person. Right now I have other pressing concerns and I fear that I also have a request for you that is rather urgent." Although the transmission was bad, the ship Shepard was on obviously saved on the unnecessary luxuries of communication, Hackett could clearly make out a smile. "I suspected you wouldn't disappoint me, Admiral."

"About a month ago we received an urgent plea for help originating from the Century system in Hawking Eta. We believe it was sent from an illegal mining colony on Presrop. Now normally the illegal nature of the mining activity and the various other concerns the alliance has at the moment would mean a very low priority assigned, but the report was... unusual. Lt. Commander Williams was eager to prove herself as a capable Spectre. I wouldn't deny her, after months of helping out in cleaning up the aftermath she was desperate for action. If truth be told I was hoping she could finally make a name for herself in a mission that didn't end in her or her company almost being killed. But it seems we underestimated the threat."

The alarmed look on Shepard's face showed that this was a lot closer to home than he had expected. "Is Ashley alright? What happened?" "Her last report was eight days ago. It sounded like it had all gone to hell. All evidence points to Rachni, Shepard." "Rachni?" He looked confused. "But we freed them from Reaper influence. They even helped us with the Crucible, why would they suddenly turn on us again?"

"My guesses are as good as yours, Shepard. The Rachni who helped construct the Crucible departed when it was completed, the devil knows where to. We've been too occupied to question their disappearance." Hackett sighed. "You may have misjudged their nature after all Commander." Shepard obviously didn't know what to make of this and Hackett couldn't blame him. He had taken a huge gamble when he had let the Rachni Queen live and it had backfired. Then he had made the same decision the second time and seemingly it had gone wrong yet again. It was enough for him to seriously question his judgement. "I will not say that it was your fault, Commander. We have hardly enough information for that. But if these really are the same Rachni I assume you are our best bet on finding out what happened and dealing with the problem. Once and for all." He let his last words hang in the air. Reproachful as they were, Shepard needed to understand that although he was regarded as a saviour he wasn't without fault. It was something every man needed to be reminded of on a regular basis. The higher up you were, the fewer superiors you had to tell you that.

"I would gladly do it, Sir. But we're still in need of a pilot. Joker's in no state to join us and finding someone just as capable will take time. Wouldn't it be wiser to send someone who could depart right away? Every hour matters after all." Hackett merely shrugged.

"Then I suggest you speed up your selection process, Commander. The Alliance has many capable pilots whereas Commanders like you are scarce. Everyone I'd trust with a mission like this has their hands full, including me. Plus your personal connection to Lt. Commander Williams will guarantee your dedication." The truth was harsh, but as a leader himself, Shepard would understand these dynamics just as well as Hackett did.

"Aye aye, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"I'll have all the details sent to you, including the last messages we received from Presrop. You're free to pick and recruit your crew, as long as you do it fast. You won't be able to contact me for a while but I'll refer you to my second in command." Hackett paused, thinking if there was something more to add. It was hardly the welcome Shepard had expected but there would be time enough for that later. He just hoped that Shepard remained as capable a force as he had always been, despite coming so close to death yet again. "And Shepard, try to stay in one piece this time. Hackett out."

The Hologram of Shepard vanished and the lights came back on. Hackett strode out of the comm room. The elevator he had used was still waiting. No soothing music played as it ascended, the only sounds were mechanisms and the incessant hum of the ship's engine. Having ascended five floors it opened up onto the observation deck. Walking forward he grasped the railings of the raised platform, beneath him the bustling of an enormous crew, tapping a myriad of bright monitors. But the Admiral's gaze was pointed straight ahead, out of the main viewing port. It revealed the bulk of his dreadnought _Victory_ flanked by the two further dreadnoughts _Giantsbane_ and _Vanquisher_ on either side, charging on into the cold sea of stars. As he stared into the void beyond, his mind wandered to the dark, opaque sphere that he kept in his quarters. "Don't worry, my dear." He whispered. "We're coming for you."

 

* * *

 

This opponent hadn't faced her before. She could tell by the look in his eyes and the way he held himself. He was overconfident and thought he was in for an easy fight. He'd be easy meat. Although female Turians were renowned for their ferocity and strength, the males still often regarded them as inferior. She had set out to change that in the sparring chambers, one fight at a time.

He lunged and put his whole weight behind the thrust. Foolish, even for the likes of him. She danced aside nimbly and managed to smack him on the back of the head with the pommel of her sparring knife. That dazed him enough that she might have followed it up straight away but she chose to regain her balance and waited for him to turn with a coy expression. He grunted, shook his head and went for her again, clearly angry. This time she ran forward to meet him but dropped at the last moment, spinning under him on her backside. His loincloth, which was customarily the only thing that was worn while sparring, brushed her head. Her spinning legs connected with his right shin and her elbow slammed into his crotch. Her adversary went down clumsily, almost dropping his knife to catch his fall. She was already on her feet again and laughed as the onlookers cheered. "That all you got, big boy?"

Her teasing voice must have been what made him snap. The Turian spun around, flinging his knife at her with full force. The small crowd gasped as she tried to dodge the spinning knife. It came at her too fast to avoid it completely and she received a small cut on the side of her neck. She ignored the fact that it could easily have been a mortal wound and kept her calm. But it was definitely time to end this. Leaping at him she deflected an unarmed defensive blow with the flat of her blade and came down on top of him, pressing him onto the mat with an audible crunch of exoskeletons. With the knife brought up to his neck the fight was over. "Saskia wins!" The judge's voice boomed through the chamber, cheers and yells were heard from the crowd which consisted of slightly more humans than Turians. "She remains undefeated for twelve matches!" Her opponent spat and stepped out of the ring. He didn't bother to retrieve his blade which had clattered to the floor in some far corner.

Tyrek rushed up to her. "You alright, Sass?" She almost groaned. Tyrek had been following her everywhere doggedly since she had encountered and beaten him in the ring. It was admirable that he lusted after strong women, if only he wasn't such a pathetic weakling of a Turian himself. "He shouldn't get away with that. That knife almost took your head off. He should be banned from sparring entirely! Just say the word, I'll make sure he won't bother you any longer." For a moment she considered letting Tyrek follow through with his offer and get himself beaten bloody. In the end Tyrek was only an annoyance however and it helped to have friends. She made a lot more enemies than friends nowadays. "Let him be, he's humiliated enough as it is." She felt the cut at the side of her neck and was reassured that it wasn't deep and already clotting.

Needing a shower was a good excuse to get rid of Tyrek and would help her muscles relax. Only when she had returned to her cabin and the warm water ran down from her mandibles and over her shining carapace did she realise how tense she had been. The close call had obviously affected her more than she'd like to admit. That Turian, whose name she couldn't even recall, was best avoided in future.

A high pitched ring woke her from her thoughts. She dried herself off with a rough towel and went to inspect her comm terminal. It couldn't be Tyrek, she'd disabled any notification sound for his messages. The sender had not only Alliance but also Council designation. Now this piqued her interest. She quickly scanned through its contents and her eyes widened. She reread it as soon as she had finished, just to be sure. "Well I'll be damned," she muttered aloud.

 

* * *

 

His conversation with Hackett had been hard to stomach. What had he expected? He had asked himself that a dozen times ever since Hackett's image had disappeared and he was left standing alone. Of course things would go on as they always had. There would always be a next mission. Somehow he had hoped that finally everyone he cared about would be safe. But most people he cared about were soldiers themselves. They each had their personal assignments, some likely as dangerous as facing Reapers. Lacking a common goal there would be no excuse for them to join the crew of the Normandy again. Some might drop by for a visit when they were "in town" but they would move on. He realized that his thoughts sounded like those of an old man and chuckled to himself. Was this what it was going to be like? Still, he supposed he should have thanked Hackett on his knees for distracting him with this new mission. Rachni? The daemons of his past would never be put to rest it seemed. He smiled at the memory of Grunt charging a bunch of Ravagers and reducing them to a foul pulp. Maybe Grunt would enjoy going on another smashing spree? Liara had once joked that he seemed like a little brother to Shepard.

Liara hadn't come to visit him last night. He imagined that the news about Ashley had also occupied her thoughts. While the two of them had never been great friends they had come to respect each other and would even spend some off-time together. Even Javik had commented on the fact that Ashley had been a remarkably headstrong and adept soldier for a woman and a human especially. Shepard liked to think that the Normandy had created lasting bonds between them all. But unlike Javik he would not write Ashley off yet. She was a survivor after all. If she came out of Eden Prime alive they would surely find her well and kicking on Presrop. If they hurried.

Jael's quiet voice issued from the speakers above the door of his room: "Earth in view now, Commander Shepard." Shepard had requested to be notified as soon as they started approaching Earth. Now he was reluctant to go and see. He remembered the blackened hellhole that was London. There was no way much of it could have been restored in the few months of his absence. Still, he needed to know what remained of his homeworld.

He found Jael alone in the cockpit. The pilot said nothing as Shepard mustered the illuminated orb, still small in the distance. From this far away everything seemed to be as it always had been. The Reapers hadn't evaporated the oceans after all and the majestic blue planet shone in the sunlight. He chose to stay and watch as Earth grew to fill more and more of the screen. Besides the increasing detail of Earth's surface, Shepard began to notice all the debris surrounding it. Wrecked ships of all allied races could be identified. And intact ones. Geth fighters and Dreadnoughts floated aimlessly in the void, some bearing no signs of battle at all. Crews of thousands that would still have been alive, had he not... He tried to focus on something else but it proved hard, his gaze always wandering back to the ghost ships.

"Why were they just left there?" "Other Priorities, Commander." He hadn't heard Orsdan approaching. "First there's a Mass Relay network to be rebuilt. That takes time. Time and an incredible amount of knowledge, yes. Only a handful are operational again. And then there's reconstruction to be done. People are homeless, starving, worrying about their own survival. The dead can be left to the crows, so to speak." Shepard supposed that made sense. But it was an interesting choice of words. "What crows?" "Scavengers. The aftermath of a war is a ripe harvest for their sort. Ships, weapons, technology in general. It is by no means allowed and as I have heard the Alliance have quite a few ships standing guard but their eyes can't be everywhere at once. Ships disappear on a daily basis. Especially Geth ships have been vanishing. Dreadnoughts might be too big to steal but no one can keep count of the fighters." Shepard shook his head. "You'd expect some respect, even from pirates and the like. These Geth died fighting for their galaxy." Orsdan merely shrugged. "They are being put to good use I suspect. What you're observing is no more or less than the cycle of life. Ships die, get taken apart and repurposed. There's nothing morbid about it, if you think of it like that."

Suddenly something struck Shepard that left an icy feeling in his gut. A strong sense of dread, when his eyes darted between the pieces of debris. "Where are the Reapers?" He turned to fix Orsdan with an intense glare. "Don't tell me what remained of the Reapers was scavenged too." But Orsdan shook his head vigorously. "Nono, there was nothing left of them." Shepard's forehead creased. "What do you mean?" "Reduced to dust! Poof!" He emphasized the process with a hand gesture. "I don't claim to be an expert on the matter, far from it, Commander. But it would seem that the energy from the Crucible attacked the very fibre of their existence, the Nanomachines themselves. As they were destroyed, the Reapers superconstructs disintegrated. I suppose it's actually very possible that it is still raining Nanomachines on Earth at the moment." That notion made Orsdan chuckle. Shepard found nothing amusing about it and still had difficulty getting his head round it. The thought that he might soon be breathing Reaper disturbed him.

He didn't know what to make of it yet, but for now he was distracted by the shining silver shape of the Citadel that was rising up over Earth's horizon. It was fully open like it had been as the energy pulse emanated from it. He hadn't seen the destruction of the Citadel itself but now it presented itself to him like a wilted flower. Many of its wards showed charred remains of once vibrant districts. At some points there were even gaping holes revealing the space and stars beyond. Countless ships were milling about it and undoubtedly there had been sections reconstructed but it would take years to restore it to its former glory. The same could be said for what he could see of Earth's continents. Blackened expanses had replaced the sprawling cities of North America. The West and East coast had been hit especially hard with the Reapers concentrating their Attacks on densely populated areas. There was no smoke rising anymore, even the biggest fires would have had time to die down. There were still wide swaths that appeared untouched but that was due to the countryside being mainly overrun with Husks instead of the Reapers themselves.

He had seen enough. Analysing the full extent of the damage would take time, which he didn't have. He would just have to trust the Alliance and the many aliens that remained to put their backs into rebuilding what was lost. "Do you have details on the location of your ship, Commander? It seems very confidential. We haven't been informed." Shepard nodded and pulled a datapad from his pocket. Admiral Hackett had transmitted the exact location of the Normandy along with the rest of the mission details. "Our destination appears to be the Omar Bradley shipyard in Jefferson City." "Acknowledged", Jael replied and adjusted the ship's course. There was clanking of someone climbing up the shaft that linked to the crew compartments beneath in a hurry.

"Wait!" Liara rushed into the cockpit, out of breath. "Shepard, what good is the Normandy if we haven't found our pilot yet?" She pressed the dataslate she was clutching into his hands. "I've spent the last days scouring the Alliance databases for possible candidates and have just arranged a first meeting. Please at least consider them before you pick the next best hauler-pilot." Of course she was right. It must have been his longing to get back on his own ship that made him completely forget that Joker wouldn't be waiting beside it. He viewed the first page of the dossier Liara had compiled and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A Turian?"


End file.
